As for my living situations, I’ve always said: “with siblings or in sin.” I do not wish to live alone. Of course, besides siblings and men there are also friends and Craigslist folks and parents and cousins and aunts. Really, any breathing being will do as long as I don’t have to come home to a dark, spooky house every night.
Yet, for eight whole days last month I had the house to myself while Anna and Katie were in Chicago for Christmas. Incredibly, it turned out to be not so terrible. Heck, it was downright enjoyable at some points.
Once the initial moment of dread is over and you’ve thrown back the shower curtain a few times, it’s smooth sailing. (Really, it surprised me every time that no one had chosen to spend their day crouching in the shower waiting for me to come home.)
Besides the fear of hidden murderers, there’s the issue about the house being awfully quiet. And this is where National Public Radio comes in. It took a while, but I’ve now discovered the NPR iPhone app. (And yes, I live in Park Slope, Brooklyn, the NPR-listener capital of the country.)
My radio friends are much more knowledgeable about world events than Anna and Katie anyways. Plus, sometimes they have British accents. And they don’t create dishes for me to wash or leave hair in the shower.
Of course, I missed hearing Anna’s footsteps coming home from work in the evening, and waking up in the morning to find Katie snug in her bed after a night at Magnolia’s Bakery.
Here, some moments from my week as a singleton:
Brunch at The Butcher’s Daughter in Nolita. The charming French waiter assured me that the apple heart was carved especially for me, ha.
Unfortunately this photo is terrible quality, but this taxi caught my attention in the Lower East Side when I heard “Jingle Bells” blasting from the open windows. The driver was in a Santa costume complete with a bushy beard, Christmas lights twinkling on the car ceiling and Santa hats on the head rest of each seat. When he saw that I was staring and trying to take a sneaky photo, he started waving so I started snapping away unabashedly.
With Anna and Katie gone, Lola became quite the emotionally needy cat, and for the first time ever she insisted on sleeping in my bed. Eventually I succumbed to the fact that I’d be covered in cat hair, and I’d wake to her snoozing on my shoulder blades.
*Cover photo was simply a pretty canvas I saw hanging in a Lower East Side coffee shop. Dad, it is not a sign that I was a blue, sad girl during Christmas.